


Brothers

by Midorisakura (Calacious)



Category: Mind Games (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, Gen, Internal Monologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-20 23:13:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1529306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calacious/pseuds/Midorisakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Ross did to him, to work on a case, doesn't sit right with Clark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> Trope bingo square - mind control
> 
> Inspiring song: "Brothers on a Hotel Bed," Deathcab for Cutie
> 
> Inspiring Episode: 105, "Cauliflower Man"
> 
> I don't own the characters, this is a direct response to the episode - processing what I watched.
> 
> Let me know if you like it.

Brothers are supposed to look out for, not deliberately harm, each other. That's the way things are supposed to be in families.

But it isn't the way it is. Not for Clark.

No, he's got an older brother who goes out of his way to manipulate him toward his own gain, regardless of the consequences to Clark, or anyone else.

Nothing matters, except that Ross gets his way. 

Clark supposes that he shouldn't be surprised by his brother's latest betrayal of his trust. 

Clark shouldn't have given Ross his trust so readily, so wholly.

Hell, even Ross had warned him against it. Warned Clark against trusting him.

Doesn't make it hurt any less, knowing what his brother's done, the depths that he's capable of diving to in order to get what he wants. 

Doesn't make Clark long any less for the connection that the idea of family offers, even if all it's based on are mind games orchestrated to control him for Ross' sake.

And that’s the bitch of it -- that he’d been manipulated. So easily. Almost as though he’d played right into Ross’ hands. 

Perhaps he had. 

The thought that he’s so easily coaxed, coached to do his brother’s bidding, is depressing. 

Another label to add to his current diagnosis. 

He’d had a breakdown. 

Because of a cheap coffeepot. The same coffeepot. Not the same, but the same, and his brother had manipulated him. 

His brother. Ross. Magician of the mind. 

Sleight of hand -- follow the white rabbit down the hole, listen to him wax on about perpetual tardiness, and try not to get lost when the rabbit pops out of the hat, as though he’s been there all along. 

Ross has always been the better artist. He’s had to be. Had to pick his younger brother up, Humpty Dumpty fallen off the wall, and put him back together countless times. 

Still, this . 

Clark hadn’t expected it. 

Or maybe it was that he hadn’t wanted to expect it. That he’d blinded himself to his brother’s machinations -- trusted him too much in the way that little brothers trust their older siblings. Whatever they say --  you’re adopted, mom and dad bought you from passing gypsies, there’s no monster under your bed  \-- is sacrilege. 

Gold and myrrh drips from their lips -- they are the gods that speak life into their younger siblings, make up the rules as you play and break them. 

He should have been prepared. Should have known. 

Should have. 

Should have locked the key to his mind in a cabinet and forgotten where he’d left it. Never joined his brother. Never left. 

Never let the coffeepot get to him and break him like it’d broken when his father wielded it -- drunk and angry -- all those years ago. Broke his body, killed his mind. And bequeathed all the blame, shame, the darkness to Clark. Carried on his sickness -- the slick way that the mind moves and shifts, like shadows of smoke on the bedroom wall.

He’s broken. Vulnerable. 

He’s his brother’s stringless puppet, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

 


End file.
